


Love Like Bricks

by TheRudeTasteofSane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Family, Hurt, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 10:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18569602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRudeTasteofSane/pseuds/TheRudeTasteofSane
Summary: Crowley's theory makes all too much terrible sense.





	Love Like Bricks

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime during Season 12. No real spoilers for the show, though.

It's only because Sam knows his brother so well that he notices when Dean starts acting differently.

He's damn good at pretending there's nothing bothering him, but Sam has always been able to see through Dean's tough guy act.

He's hurting. Badly.

And it's clear from the way Dean acts, it would be useless to try to talk about it.

No, by now Sam knows to sit back and let Dean come to him about it.

Only, he doesn't.

Dean keeps on carefully maneuvering their conversations, carrying on in his usual sarcastic manner, and it takes a shameful amount of time for Sam to realize that Dean hasn't so much as mentioned Castiel in nearly two months.

That wouldn't be unusual, they're all adults and Castiel is his own man with his own agenda. When Castiel is off chasing his own cases, it's like pulling teeth to get him to answer the phone.

But Dean cares deeply about the angel. It's not like Dean to seem so utterly unconcerned that they hadn't heard from Castiel.

Sam thinks the obvious choice here is to reach out to Castiel instead, but when Sam calls, he's unpleasantly surprised to hear a disconnect message.

That's when he really starts to wonder.

 

 

====

 

Dean starts to act carelessly. Very carelessly.

When they're out solving cases, it's almost exactly like when Dean had the Mark.

He's so focused on the killing that nothing else matters.

Sam has a ball of worry that simmers constantly in his gut, because it's been half a year since _he_  left and there have been too many close calls. They haven't fared well at all without the man who'd once called them brothers. But that's not something Sam likes to think about, because the absence of their guardian angel is a wound that just won't heal.

Whenever Sam asks about Castiel, Dean's answering scowl is black enough to put an end to the questions.

It's clear by now that something happened between Castiel and Dean, and Sam is dying to know what because Dean hasn't been the same since.

It's like an integral part of Dean's spirit is gone.

And Sam doesn't want to believe that Castiel is the cause, but all signs point to it anyway.

 

====

 

It makes Sam sick when Dean starts palling around with Crowley again.

Dean insists that Crowley isn't the same as he used to be, but Sam remains unconvinced. Because yeah, sure the demon is different _now_ , but... it's _Crowley_.

Still, despite how Crowley has burned them in the past, his presence has helped Dean more than Sam feels entirely comfortable admitting.

He doesn't fully accept the demon until Crowley is helping them root out a nest of ghouls and Sam hears a shout.

He turns and sprints towards Dean, who is grappling with three ghouls by himself. He's cut to bloody ribbons, gasping for breath but fighting fiercely. He crumples to the ground when one of the ghouls bites into the junction between neck and shoulder.

Sam freezes, screaming out Dean's name. His panic keeps him rooted in place, watching as the ghouls cackle gleefully over their next meal.

Until Crowley appears, and decimates the entire pack of ghouls with a snap.

Dean is covered in ghoul guts but he remains still and silent, so Sam scrambles into action.

He scoops Dean up, mindful of his injuries, and starts to carry him to the Impala.

“Allow me, Samantha,” Crowley snaps his fingers and they are in front of a set of double doors that reads Emergency Room.

There's a flurry of activity once he steps inside with Dean, which he pays almost zero attention to.

Dean is almost deathly pale beneath the gore, and Sam can't see anything else.

“Thanks,” he croaks out, once they're seated in the waiting room. Sam looks over, and hysterical laughter wants to burst out of him at the absurdity of the _King of Hell_  in an ER waiting room like a regular human being.

Crowley smirks.

“It always pays to have the Winchesters owe you a favor,” and Sam wants to be angry at the smug tone, but he also knows that that's about as close to a ‘you're welcome’ as he's likely to ever get from the demon.

“Got to say, Moose. I'm flattered you chose me over the Giraffe,” Crowley continues, and Sam tenses at the undercurrent of glee in the demon's voice. “I have to wonder, though. Our dear Castiel usually comes running whenever his beloved pet Squirrel is in danger. Why didn't he tonight?” Sam clenches the chair underneath him in a white-knuckle grip.

“I don't know,” he confesses sourly. Crowley makes a noise of fake sympathy.

“Maybe he wised up, went back home to the mothership,” Crowley holds up his hands when Sam glowers at him. “I'm just saying, darling. Stranger things have happened in your lives.”

As much as Sam doesn't want to acknowledge it, it makes sense. Castiel has made no attempts whatsoever to reach out, despite their numerous pleas. Even when Dean and Sam both had humbled themselves, gotten down on their hands and knees and honest to God _prayed_  to Castiel, he hadn't appeared.

Yes, Crowley's theory makes all too much terrible sense. And Sam really, really wishes the demon hadn't said anything because that idea is more than he can handle right now.

“Oh dear. I'm right, aren't I?” Crowley guesses in the silence that follows. “Lucky for you, I don't have the common sense our angel friend seems to.”

Sam scoffs, but can't find it in himself to be angry with Crowley. He had saved Dean, after all. While Sam  _knows_  that Castiel had seen everything and refused to help.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees dully, clasping his hands together. “Lucky for us.”

 

====

 

It's the ass crack of dawn when Dean finally comes out of surgery. He'd needed several blood transfusions, and too many stitches to count, but he would live.

Sam drops into the chair next to the bed, exhaustion and relief seeping from every pore. The doctor had said it would probably be some time before Dean wakes up, so all that remains is to wait.

It's not long before Sam can't fight sleep anymore, and he slumps to rest on Dean's bed.

 

====

 

Dean wakes to the soft sounds of someone else's breathing.

He aches all over like a son of a bitch, but that's nothing compared to what he feels when he sees Castiel standing at the foot of the bed.

“Hello Dean,” the gruff voice sounds so _calm_ , so unruffled that Dean's sudden rage is nearly blinding.

His heart monitor spikes, and Sam bolts up from where he'd been sleeping. He notices Castiel, but before he can say or do anything, Castiel touches his forehead. He falls back against the chair, face slack in unconsciousness.

Dean sees red. He takes several breaths, as deep as the stitches in his chest will allow him to.

If the bastard thinks this will be some kind of reconciliation, he's got another thing coming.

“If you ever touch my fucking brother again, _angel_ ,” Dean hisses “I'll kill you.”

Castiel takes a step back, clearly unprepared for the pure venom in Dean's voice.

“I came to--,” “I don't give a flying _fuck_  what you came here for!” Dean screams, and Castiel's eyes widen in horror as red blooms on the front of Dean's hospital gown.

Dean gets out of bed, mindless of the blood beginning to pour from his re-opened wounds. He is shaking and pale from the effort of standing, but his eyes are alive and wild with malice.

“You called us your _family_ ,” Dean snarls, and takes a step towards Castiel. “And then you _turned your back on us_.”

Castiel opens his mouth, and then closes it. There's no point in denying the truth.

“But you know, maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. Because.. we're not your _real_  family, right?” Dean laughs, and Castiel flinches at the bitterness in the sound.

Dean takes another step, and Castiel steps back. The angel looks stricken, and his hands twitch uselessly at his side. Dean relaxes slowly, as if against his will, swaying in place a little.

Castiel is alarmed at how rapidly he's losing color, and makes a tentative move forward. Dean backs up, baring his teeth like an animal.

“Stay away from me,” he demands, though it comes out less authoritative than Castiel is sure it’s meant to. He stifles the urge to heal Dean, consequences be damned.

“Dean, I'm--,” “Ssave your _God-damned_  ‘pologies,” Dean slurs, his eyes fluttering. “Save ‘em for ssomeone who actually gives a-” he collapses, and when nurses bust into the room moments later, it is empty save the patient and his sleeping brother.

 

====

 

Castiel is well away from the hospital before he allows his emotions to overwhelm him. He is a shuddering, sobbing, screaming mess as he thinks of where it all went wrong.

When Heaven offered to let him come back, to work with _them_  once more, he'd gone without a second thought. He knew it wouldn't be easy, that there were a lot of his brothers and sisters still angry with him for The Fall. But the angels were family, as much a part of him as his favorite humans.

Once he was actually in Heaven, however, he hadn't been able to shake thoughts of Sam and Dean. How much they'd been through together. How hard they tried to save each other from their own mistakes.

His brothers and sisters tried to distract him with duties, more than he could possibly handle.

The entire time, he daydreamed about his life with Sam and Dean.

True, it hadn't been perfect. But the brothers had risked their lives, their very _souls_ , to help Castiel on multiple occasions.

The guilt of abandoning them grew heavier and heavier, until he began making trips to Earth in secret. He couldn't bear not knowing whether Sam and Dean were okay. 

Then he saw the brothers with _Crowley_.

Jealousy flared, ugly and dark, when he saw how easily the abomination had replaced him. How Dean laughed in the demon's presence, how even Sam seemed to accept Crowley.

But what stung the worst was seeing that they were _moving on_ , while Castiel hadn't been able to get the humans off his mind. It was that same stinging pain that let him ignore the brothers’ prayer, an action he now deeply regretted.

Perhaps out of a wounded sense of loyalty, he continued watching the brothers in his spare moments, disgust twisting his insides whenever the demon was nearby.

And then he'd heard Sam praying for Dean to _please be alright, **please** , oh please, oh Jesus **fuck** there's so much blood_ , and Castiel dropped everything, unable to resist the summons.

He arrived just in time to see Crowley save the day, and the sight of Dean's body drove Castiel to his knees.

He knew then, forsaking the Winchester brothers had been a _colossal_  mistake.

But before he could offer assistance, or even begin to make things right, Crowley sent an evil smirk directly at the angel and disappeared with the brothers.

It took hours to find the right hospital, and Castiel sustained a further blow when his attempt at a reconciliation ended in disaster.

Now his relationship with his family is broken beyond repair and Castiel feels nothing but emptiness inside.

  
====

 

“He told me he wasn't coming back,” Dean is in his hospital bed, refusing to look at Sam. “Before he.. walked out.”

Sam remains silent, struggling to keep his anger and pain in check.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Sam mutters brokenly, tears burning the corners of his eyes. Dean swallows.

“Because.. I didn't want to believe it,” he admits reluctantly. “Hell, he'd _died_  for us, there was no way he could just leave like that. So I kept quiet, stupidly believing he was on a mission or something, believing that... that _Judas_  would never...”

Sam is shocked by the nickname, by how much hate is in Dean's voice.

“But he did,” Sam replies, and Dean's shoulders start shaking. There are tears rolling silently down his cheeks while he looks out the window.

A crippling wave of fury overwhelms Sam, that Castiel has brought his brother this much pain.

Castiel has always been the _one person_  they could rely on. The one person besides Sam that Dean had ever fully trusted.

And the angel had thrown that precious gift away like so much garbage, all for his " _real_ " family. Like he hadn't ever considered Sam and Dean family at all.

That's what hurts the most.

“ _Please_ ,” Sam and Dean both turn at the broken sound of Castiel's voice.

The brothers’ expressions darken considerably and Sam stands, moves in front of Dean protectively. He's clutching an angel blade behind his back just in case.

“We're not Jesus,” Sam steps forward, brandishing the angel blade in front of him. “So you'd better find somewhere else to spend your fucking silver, _Judas_.”

Castiel recoils as if he's been burned. His eyes are welling with tears.

“I made a huge mistake,” he begs. “Tell me how I can make it right.”

“ **YOU CAN'T**!” Dean and Sam roar in unison.

Dean's heart monitor begins to beep wildly, and his eyes roll back in his head. He starts seizing and Sam yells for a nurse.

Castiel moves without thinking, full of an innate _need_  to heal Dean. He touches Dean's forehead, a high-pitched whine sounding through the room.

By the time Dean's injuries are completely healed, Castiel is pale and sweating from the effort.

Sam is still holding the angel blade, but it's less sure in his grip.

“ _You_  are my family,” Castiel says earnestly. “My _home_. I do not know what I can do to convince you of this, but I will spend my life trying.”

Dean stands, and walks up to the angel. He punches Castiel with all the strength he has, pummeling until long after his knuckles are bloody. He refuses when the angel tries to heal him.

“There's _nothing_  you can do,” his eyes are icy. “You'll have to live with the guilt. The knowledge that you let down your family. And you'll live with it forever.”

Castiel bows his head, staying silent as Sam and Dean walk out of the room. Inside his mind, Castiel is a whirl of emotions. He's still mentally flogging himself when Dean sticks his head back in the doorway.

“You coming? We're not going to wait all day,” Castiel's head whips up, and he is almost sick with hope looking at Dean.

Dean's expression gives nothing away, and Castiel knows he's not out of the doghouse. Not by a long shot.

But it's a start, and he reaches for it with both hands.

 


End file.
